Series: - No Series - #1
Chapters: 001 Word Count: 6327
Warning(s): Other (See Author's Note)
Character(s): Jethro Gibbs, Tony DiNozzo, Abby Sciuto
Summary: Now, it's Abby's turn to dictate the specifics of the encounter.
Warnings: Sex, language, m/m sex, bit of kink, sex, masturbation, m/f/m sex, oral sex
Notes: A follow-up (of sorts) to Abby Likes… But it certainly can be read as a stand-alone. Big thank you to my beta and good friend, BC.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement intended.
Abby also likes…
…being able to keep everyone on their toes, slightly off-balance, unsure of where she really stands on subjects relating to her personal lifestyle and choices. She likes to see them squirm, to twist just a bit on the end of her dangling line, to look at her with those wide, expectant, almost bordering-on-appalled eyes, and try to voice their unspoken questions and concerns.
Oh, yeah…they have their questions but, most of the time, the words just get stuck somewhere between their mouths and their brains, refusing to come out in any clear, understandable semblance, usually emerging as nothing more than disconnected, choking sounds or a series of short, gasping breaths. Stammering occurs regularly, as do grunts, groans, tsks, gurgles, and, occasionally, an almost coherent ‘huh?’.
It’s laughable, really, but Abby has learned to school her expressions into a very sincere mask of childish innocence and to merely watch and observe, allowing the little scene to unfold at it’s own natural pace, to be the model of calm patience, and to always make sure the other person is the one to make the move to end the one-sided, uncomfortable, little event. Like now.
Gazing naively at the man standing rather uncomfortably just to the other side of her long, crowded computer work station, Abby waits tolerantly, the corners of her dark, full mouth turning up just slightly. She’s relaxed and tranquil, her tall, lithe body the model of perfect harmony, breathing steadily and surely with no obvious element of discomfort or fatigue or anxiety apparent.
But it’s all nothing more than a beautiful lie.
Inside, Abby is writhing and twisting and screaming out for the man to make the right choice…the best choice…the *only* choice suitable to fulfill all her deepest, darkest, most coveted desires. She wants nothing more than to lead him in the right direction, to guide his thoughts and his words, to orchestrate how events will progress if his response is the least bit positive or promising. She wants it so badly right now, she can almost imagine the tempting sweetness on the tip of her tongue, ready to explode across all the taste buds, and dribble down into her parched throat. It’s a taste she craves…but only with the right person. Or, in this case, persons.
“Wh…what?” The man’s usually smooth, rich tenor now contains a slight rasping hitch of uncertainty but his beautiful, expressive eyes are wide with excited anticipation…and barely concealed interest.
He can’t disguise his interest and the realization flows over Abby like a warm, silken caress, stirring something primal and wild within the pit of her belly. Her little grin grows, the slick, glossy darkness of her lips opening just enough to expose several even, white teeth. The smile would look almost threatening on anyone else but, when the charming, girlish dimples appear on each of her smooth, pale cheeks, the effect is exactly the opposite. She knows how to dip her chin coyly, how to gaze up from under the fringe of soft bangs, how to appear innocent and soothing and unintimidating. She knows all this because she’s had a lot of practice…a whole lot of practice
“I said,” she speaks softly, calmly, letting the tone of her voice flow gently toward the man, careful not to increase the volume or make any sudden, unexpected movements, “I want both of you to come over to my place next weekend. I want to be with both of you…intimately…together. I want us to do the things I think we‘ve all been thinking about since that night here in my lab. And I think you want it, too. Am I right?”
There’s only the briefest moment of hesitation. “Yes.”
That one, simple, single, steadily worded affirmation is all she needs. Quickly rounding the table, Abby launches herself into the man’s arms, knowing without a doubt he’ll catch her easily, and hugs him tightly, letting all her joy and happiness come bubbling up and out.
“I knew it!” She all but squeals, her mouth close to his ear, feeling the strong band of his returned embrace grip her securely. “I just knew it!”
The man chuckles at her exuberance, easily holding the excited woman. “Wait, Abs…I may be agreeable but that doesn’t mean…”
“You *so* know he’ll agree, too!” Abby stresses, interrupting quickly, and pulling back just far enough to look into the masculine face. “Just ask…you’ll see.”
The man nods and lets Abby slide slowly to her feet, momentarily enjoying the prolonged contact of their bodies before releasing her completely. But she can see a quick flash of uncertainty flicker in his expressive eyes.
“I’m not so sure,” he confesses and moves a bit away, shoving his hands deeply into the pockets of his slacks. “I mean, we haven’t been together all that long. This is…well, this is a *huge* step.”
“Yes, it is,” she agrees but the confident smile never wavers.
“He could say no.”
“But he won’t,” she guarantees boldly.
“How can you be so sure?”
Abby tilts her head fractionally to one side, placing her hands firmly on her hips, arms akimbo. “Because even though you have some pretty good people skills, when it comes to things like this, mine are just a little bit better.”
She has to laugh outright at his specifically chosen question and is pleased when he joins right in a moment later. This is good…laughter is always good.
“Ask him. Tonight,” Abby instructs, patting him happily on a shoulder before turning back to her work, her face alight with a contented, happy expression.
The man remains in his original position for a few seconds and then moves, his feet taking him right by her position. As he passes close, Abby feels a brief, soft, chaste kiss pressing quickly against the back of her exposed neck, sending a sharp thrill shooting straight to her boot-covered toes. She purrs quietly at the welcome sensation.
And as much as she wants to dwell on the feeling and what it could mean right now, Abby knows having *both* men in her bed in the days to come will be well worth the wait…and what she really and truly wants. Oh, yeah. Not even attempting to control her wide grin, the forensics specialist reaches for the remote to up the volume of her music and returns to focus on the tasks at hand.
But breaking the news isn’t as easy as he’d hoped it would be. The timing has to be just perfect and, if there’s anything the NCIS agent has discovered in his colorful lifetime, it’s that nothing is ever perfect in this world. Oh, hell no. Something or someone is always there, ready to throw a cosmic monkey wrench into the mechanism, screwing up the timing, stealing away the opportunity, and fucking with his karma.
He grimaces sourly at the thought, shaking his head at the allegory, wondering why some mysterious, Eastern religious philosophy would even figure in with his contemplations of the problem at hand. It isn’t as though God…or whatever…is taking the time to personally thwart his plans; it’s nothing more than just an inconvenient coincidence. Whenever he thinks there’d be a few spare minutes to have a private conversation, someone inevitably intrudes, reminding him that work is not the best place to do this. Yeah, a coincidence…that was it.
So, he decides to wait until after work, when he doesn’t have to worry about being caught standing a bit too close or having someone overhear the too-personal words. Crap. It would be nothing short of disastrous if that ever happened. It’s bad enough they have to hide what they feel for each other from their co-workers and friends but it would be devastating if anyone heard the word ‘threeway’ peppered in with their normal, daily conversation.
Threeway. Oh, boy.
Resting on the comfortable couch and watching the shapes and colors on the television’s screen flicker and dance, Tony DiNozzo decides it’s now or never. He and Gibbs have enjoyed a peaceful dinner, have quickly cleared and cleaned the remains of their shared meal away, and are now enjoying another viewing of one of the former-Marine’s all-time, favorite flicks, Heartbreak Ridge.
Well, okay, *Gibbs* is enjoying a squinty-eyed, gravel-throated Clint Eastwood whipping his boys into perfect, little grunts but DiNozzo is merely pretending to be as equally enthralled, head pillowed on the solid thigh under his cheek and fingers absently stroking along the back of the older man’s calf. He doesn’t know why the subject is so hard to broach now, doesn’t know why he keeps putting it off, but, the longer he waits, the farther away the words just seem to get.
‘You know *exactly* what the problem is,’ he silently chides himself. ‘If you even suggest this to him, he’s going to think you’re not satisfied with him anymore or that he’s too old for you or that you were just using him for a little R&R and are now ready to move on to younger, more greener pastures.’
DiNozzo sighs softly and frowns at the thought. There is just no way he is going to risk screwing up this terrific relationship by proposing what Abby has suggested. Not now. Things are good…damn good. He and Gibbs spend what time they can together, they talk, they share, and the sex is extremely enjoyable. And, now, there’s even the definite hint of something more forming between them. Something exciting…something bordering on permanent and it’s as satisfying a relationship he’s ever had with anyone…man or woman. He certainly didn’t want to mess with the recipe by tossing in an unexpected ingredient into the tasty batter now.
But on the other hand…
When he and Gibbs had responded to Abby’s initial invitation to use her lab as a private rendezvous spot a few weeks ago, with her perched somewhere within the darkened recesses, watching their every move, listening to their moans and groans and heated, obscene words of lust, they’d been wild with passion, her presence an extra spark to the fire that burned brightly between them. It had been so good and so hot he’d been pretty much emotionally and physically drained for days afterwards, the mere thought of what they’d done in front of her easily sending his body into a paradox of sweet, aching hunger all over again. The memory continually toyed with his libido, twisting his gut, tightening his nuts, and making him squirm uncomfortably within his own pants. He wanted more: more excitement, more danger, more…Abby.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight.”
Gibbs’ deep, soft voice takes him by surprise and he jumps a bit at the unexpected but mellow sound. A gentle hand is immediately cupping the side of his head, the long, strong fingers carding through the short hair, and massaging soothingly against his skull. DiNozzo takes a deep breath and slowly lets it back out, chiding himself for being so skittish, forcing himself to relax under the careful, tender handling.
“I’m okay,” he offers in a whisper, letting his eyes fall closed in blissful surrender, focusing solely on the warm hand on his head. “Just…thinking…that‘s all.”
DiNozzo hesitates for a moment, debating whether he should just tell an outright lie, and then quickly decides a half-truth would be better. After all, he doesn‘t need to go into all the gory details to produce an acceptable answer.
“You.” Is all he chooses to say quietly.
Gibbs grunts. “Should I be afraid?”
The teasing tone of the words brings a small smile to DiNozzo’s face and he manages to chuckle quietly, slowly rolling over and maneuvering around and about until he can rest his cheek against Gibbs’ far shoulder, his arms wedging between the cushion and the older man’s back, embracing the solid form comfortably. He likes this laid back position and sighs in pleased contentment when Gibbs draws his own arms around him tightly, squeezing firmly, and dropping a quick, moist kiss to DiNozzo’s forehead.
“No, you don’t have to be afraid,” he murmurs against the soft fabric of the older man’s shirt.
“That’s good,” Gibbs responds, bringing a hand up to cup the younger man’s skull, resuming the slow, easy kneading. He likes this tender closeness that has unpredictably developed between them, likes being able to touch the smooth, fine skin when they’re alone, and he likes their shared, private, easy way of communicating, verbally and physically. In fact, there just isn’t too much in their current relationship he doesn’t like…except, maybe, when DiNozzo deliberately tries to hide something from him. Like now. “Still, seems like there’s a lot more than just me on your mind. Care to share?”
Crap. Busted again. DiNozzo sighs, twisting his head and burying his nose against Gibbs’ chest, inhaling the clean, fresh smell deeply. His muffled response of ‘no’ almost goes unheard. Almost.
Gibbs curls his fingers into the sun-kissed, brown hair and tugs gently. “What? Come on, Tony, talk to me. Whatever it is can’t be that bad.” The rich tenor of his voice rumbles deep within his chest, sending a vibration through them both. When no other movement or response is forthcoming, Gibbs heaves his own sigh, feeling his patience thin. “Look, you know I’m not good at this stuff, so if you’ve got something to say, just spit it out.”
There are several long heartbeats of silence and then…
“Abbywantsustohaveathreesome,” DiNozzo huffs out in a rushed whisper, face now all but mashed flat against the broad chest, nose slipping almost into the protective region of Gibbs’ armpit, his embarrassment so evident the tips of his ears even beginning to turn pink.
Gibbs snorts at the barely audible, nonsensical statement and shakes his head. “Is that some foreign language or something because, I gotta tell you, I didn’t understand a single word.” He prods at the younger man gently, trying to keep his rising frustration from bleeding through. “Come on, Tony. You know I don’t like playing games like this. Just tell me what’s eating at you.”
Reluctantly, DiNozzo untangles himself from his comfortable nest and pushes up until he’s supported on one arm, his body still leaning fairly heavily across Gibbs lap. He forces his eyes up and focuses on the older man’s intense, blue gaze, seeing the concern and the interest and the slight beginnings of a mounting irritation in the clear, blue depths. Gibbs doesn’t take kindly to emotional subterfuge and has always indicated he expects and deserves straight-forward answers and opinions, so DiNozzo knows he has to come clean. Right now.
Taking a fortifying breath, he just let it rip in one, explosive blast. “Abby wants us all to be together next weekend. Intimately.”
The resultant silence is almost overpowering…and every bit as frightening.
The two men stare mutely at each other with their solemn, unsure faces mere inches apart, DiNozzo’s announcement lurking now like some wild, potentially dangerous animal just waiting for the right moment to attack. It’s almost as if neither is daring to breathe for fear of unleashing the unpredictable beast, setting it loose on their recently forged relationship, and being totally incapable of doing anything more than watching helplessly as it rips and shreds and renders the bond to pieces.
Neither of them wants that. The risk is just too great. And yet…
Gibbs swallows thickly and clears his throat, his eyes never leaving DiNozzo’s. When the words come, they‘re quiet, tentative, *almost* unemotional. “What did you tell her?”
“I…ah,” DiNozzo starts hesitantly, eyes dropping to rest on some imaginary spot in the center of Gibbs’ shirt, a lone finger rising to rub softly at the invisible stain. He shifts a bit, still within the older man’s loose embrace, but immediately calms as Gibbs covers the digit with a warm, restraining hand.
“Tony?” Gibbs prompts and waits until the apprehensive green eyes rise once again.
“I said ‘yes’ but…muphfff!”
Suddenly flat on his back against the thickly padded sofa cushions, with Gibbs literally sucking the breath from his lungs with his hot, insistent mouth, all DiNozzo finds he can do is hold on and enjoy the ride. And what a ride it is!
Gibbs is quickly working a hand down between them, deft, clever fingers reaching and rubbing and stroking, fanning the spark that constantly seems to simmer so brightly between them, fueling it more with deep, full kisses and hot, wet licks and sharp, stimulating bites to neck and ear and collarbone. DiNozzo just squirms in startled delight, kissing and licking and biting as best as he can right back, moaning into the demanding mouth, giving as good as he gets, his own hands getting busy on the older man’s body.
Gibbs momentarily tears his lips from the sweet, pulse-pounding artery running down the side of the exposed neck and rears up, both hands at work now. “Too many clothes…you’ve got…too many clothes.” He’s panting and demanding and there’s a wild glimmer in his eyes that both excites and scares but the trust between them alleviates any pointless fear. “Off,” he demands, tugging at DiNozzo’s now-unfastened jeans with shaking hands, fingers made a bit clumsy by lust.
DiNozzo nods mutely, breathing heavily through his open mouth, eyes wide and fixed solely on Gibbs’ face and does as directed, twisting and wriggling and pushing the garment down his legs as best he can in his horizontal position. He levers back against the cushions with his shoulder blades, raising his hips in the process, and shoves them as far as he can, stymied only when Gibbs swoops back down, pushing DiNozzo’s soft T-shirt up to bunch under his chin and covering the naked torso once more. The kisses are deeper now, the bites slightly more sharp, and the course rasp of Gibbs’ clothed body sends wicked, prickly jolts of frantic need from toes to scalp and then straight back again. It’s a raw, heady feeling and DiNozzo has to fight to not to get lost in the power of Gibbs’ desire.
“Jesus!” He hisses, fingers scrabbling for some kind of purchase, one hand going to the back of the couch and the other grasping blindly for Gibbs’ head, as the teeth at his right nipple sink in just a tad too much. But it’s a sweet, searing pain and the younger man jerks and thrusts against the hot, demanding body, wanting more contact, more skin, more of everything. “Gibbs…” He manages another name and, this time, is answered.
“I’m here…I’m here,” the older man chants hoarsely, licking wetly at the abused nub, working his way lower, mouthing at the smooth, fragile skin across the ribs and taut belly, and almost devouring the flesh in his trek south, stopping only once to suck wetly at a twitching hip. “Gonna do you, Tony…gonna do you so hard…”
“Oh, yeah…” The ragged, moaned affirmation is laced with so much obvious craving it fairly sizzles in the air, raining softly down upon Gibbs as he continues toward his destination, like embers from a raging fire.. “Want you…need you…come on…come on…”
As Gibbs’ tongue slips nastily into the shallow dip of the navel and his bristly chin chafes against the hypersensitive head of DiNozzo’s hard, waiting dick, the younger man stifles a shout and all but folds in half, rising into an awkward, seated position and leaning slightly forward, hands clutching spastically at Gibbs’ shoulders. He wants to spread his legs wider but the damn pants are still half on, caught somewhere around his ankles, keeping him from maneuvering into any advantageous arrangement. And Gibbs just isn’t slowing down enough to let him remove them the rest of the way. Hell, Gibbs isn’t slowing down at all.
When the hot, wet, slickness of Gibbs’ mouth closes around his cock, DiNozzo falls back in a confusing mixture of intense pleasure and driving frustration, enjoying the wash of pure sensation but needing to do more to get them further along in their activities. He wants to give back just as much pleasure as he’s receiving but the older man seems hell-bent on commandeering all of the action, shoving his knees apart, jerking his thighs wider, twisting and angling and pushing until DiNozzo feels almost like a manhandled rag doll caught tight in some bulldog’s unrelenting jaw. It‘s exciting and frightening and a whole lot more emotions he can‘t even put a name on right now but one thing is certain: he *likes* it.
“I want to see Abby suck your dick,” Gibbs momentarily ceases his erotic attack and growls low and rough and powerfully from his chest, his pale, heated gaze raking over the restless body laid out before him. “I want to see her mouth take you in and suck you dry,” he continues, pausing only long enough to take another pull at the spit-slickened hardness, his tongue and teeth lapping and nipping and working the vulnerable flesh almost brutally, “and I want to sit back and watch the whole thing…”
DiNozzo feels a whine coming on, especially when Gibbs goes right back down, those clever lips swirling and rubbing and lapping…and sucking. Oh, yeah…the sucking. But there’s hands involved now, too, fingers rolling and smoothing and pressing lower, searching, seeking, exploring the delicate dips and rises and creases. The whine finally escapes and DiNozzo is humping into the eager mouth, almost heedless to the amount of force he‘s using, especially when one of the persistent, questing digits begins a slow, sensuous circling of his puckered entrance.
“Gibbssssss…” he hisses again, head pushing back into the cushion, eyes rolling up and closing, the sensation grabbing at him hard and just bubbling over his body. It’s so good and so hot and so…
Gibbs is suddenly moving away, his body rising and twisting to one side, returning only when he’s managed to capture DiNozzo’s trapped lower legs in his hands. Not stopping to remove the reclining man’s shoes or jeans in his haste, the older man simply lifts quickly, pushing the confined ankles up and back, rolling the long legs until the DiNozzo’s knees are almost against his chest, the smooth, white expanse of his ass tilted in exposure. Gibbs falls back to his original position, half-laying across the couch, one arm braced against the back of DiNozzo’s thighs, holding him open and in position, and not allowing him to move. If it’s the least bit
uncomfortable, no one’s complaining, especially not DiNozzo.
This time, when Gibbs mouth returns, it’s with a flat, wide swipe of his tongue, starting at the base of DiNozzo’s balls and licking a hot, wriggling stripe straight up to the weeping head, swirling around the swollen glans over and over and sucking up the bitter beads. When he dips down again, it’s lower still, and he coats the tight opening with spit and saliva and a healthy scattering of deepening licks and hot, little, nasty kisses.
“Shit…Gibbs…” DiNozzo manages to groan out, the awkward position keeping him from moving as he wants, as he needs. He’s all but desperate to touch the other man but, now, he can’t even manage to get his hands to reach the silvered head. “…please…”
The moaning plea strikes a cord and Gibbs is back again at the hard, pulsing dick, taking the thick length back in, cheeks hollowing and releasing rhythmically. He’s building a slow, growing tempo, letting the excess spit trail from the corners of his mouth and slide wetly down the crease of the upturned ass. And the taunting, tempting finger is unrelenting, circling and then dipping shallowly inside, distributing the saliva, coating and slicking the opening. It’s not enough for fucking but that’s not the plan…at least, not yet.
Gibbs brings his other hand up and encircles the base of DiNozzo’s needy cock, gripping it firmly in the ring made by thumb and forefinger, and strokes upward toward his lips, never breaking the pace of his sucks and swirls. It’s a maddening, wicked sensation and it’s doing nothing but pushing the younger man closer and closer to orgasm…right where Gibbs wants him.
Raising his eyes from the heated skin, Gibbs looks toward DiNozzo’s face, trying to see his expressions, the angle causing his wet chin to push against the smooth skin of the tightening sac. Immediately, Gibbs can feel the individual nuts draw up further, one at a time, and can hear the long, low groan of pleasure caused by that small bit of extra stimulation. Grinning wickedly around the wet, leaking cock, he slides his stubbled chin gently from side to side again, the soft rasp of prickly whiskers making DiNozzo tremble and shake, the puckered opening clenching and spasming around the lone, gradually invading, spit-slicked finger.
His breathing is ragged and shallow and his eyes are closed in blissful abandon and Gibbs thinks he’s never seen a sight more erotic in all his life. DiNozzo’s got his head thrown back, his body strung taut and legs shaking uncontrollably, fingertips sunk into the soft cushion under his head and holding on for all he‘s worth. He’s twisting his ass and gasping and panting almost as if in pain as Gibbs forces more spit from his mouth, letting it drench over and around the tightly drawn-up testicles, dripping to where his finger is slowly entering and ending as a growing spot on the sofa’s fabric below the small of his bowed back. Gibbs doesn’t care…he just wants, needs, to get DiNozzo off, the sooner, the better. Now would be perfect.
Pulling the finger out a bit and collecting what moisture he can, Gibbs clamps his lips around DiNozzo’s dick and shoves the rigid digit right back in, as far as he can, fighting the bucking and jumping and jerking that follows. DiNozzo yells out loudly once and then is caught in the throes of orgasm, his breath held and squeezed and hitched in his lungs as his come spurts uncontrollably out and into Gibbs greedy, waiting mouth, over and over again. It’s raw and good and pretty damn near perfect but, before he can recover from the erotic assault, Gibbs is grabbing him by the legs and working to flip him over, strong hands almost bruising at the hip and thigh.
“Whoa!” DiNozzo gasps weakly, struggling to comply but fighting the lassitude settling over his extremely satisfied body. He tries to roll but, obviously, isn’t quick enough because Gibbs is growling low in his throat, that wild, almost-threatening look reappearing in his searing eyes. The younger man makes it to one side, spine flat against the back of the couch, and awkwardly points toward his feet with one hand. “Gibbs…shoes…”
The older man pauses and tilts his head, like an animal trying to make sense of unintelligible human speech, before reaching back and wrestling the loosely laced Nikes from the big feet, yanking them roughly and tossing them haphazardly to the floor. Once they’re gone, the jeans are next, stripped and peeled away like the skin from an over-ripe banana, revealing a pair of long, bare, muscular legs. Gibbs grabs one of DiNozzo’s ankles, grabs his own dick, and starts pulling them both, his gaze dropping and settling on the younger man’s tender-looking cock and spit-soaked balls.
“Turn over,” he directs harshly, stroking himself roughly.
DiNozzo casts a worried look at the angry, engorged organ and shakes his head, eyes immediately focusing back on Gibbs’ face. Carefully raising a hand to place it gently against the heaving man’s cheek, he speaks softly but distinctly. “Jethro, slow down. I just need a little more prep.”
Gibbs frowns and looks at the long expanse of skin before him, knowing the younger man is right…but he’s so turned on and his dick is throbbing with need, slathered with pre-come and begging for relief. “Want to fuck you…now.”
DiNozzo is scrambling instantly, all lethargy evaporating in the face of Gibbs‘ desire. He knows he’s not prepared enough to take Gibbs’ girth without risking injury and knows the closest lube is across the room, so he has to think fast. Gibbs doesn’t get like this often but, when he does, a quick mind is especially needed.
“Oh, yeah,” he almost coos soothingly, steadily pulling his ankle from Gibbs grip and rising to his knees, facing the man squarely and reaching to wrap his arms around the sweaty shoulders of his lover. “Whatever you want…just let me get the lube. Okay?”
Gibbs is all but trembling with need but manages to nod once, his forehead heavy against DiNozzo’s shoulder. “Hurry.”
DiNozzo is up and moving as fast as he can on rubbery-feeling legs, almost staggering to and from the small table near the end of the hallway in record time. Popping the cap and squirting a sufficient amount into his left palm, he spreads his legs and bends to place a wet, sloppy kiss on Gibbs’ mouth. It’s rough and hot and Gibbs is all but demanding satisfaction *now*. DiNozzo keeps the kiss rolling, barely controlling the other man, and deftly begins working the lube up into himself, moaning at the sensation and wondering at the level of their excitement.
If just thinking about being with and doing things to Abby is putting them into this frantic frame of mind, how in the hell were they going to perform when the big night finally arrived? DiNozzo pushes that scary thought roughly aside and focuses on the problem at hand…his hand, to be more specific. Adding another finger and baring down, he knows he needs to hurry…and this just isn’t getting it.
“Give me your fingers,” he orders and maneuvers Gibbs until the older man is seated correctly on the couch, grabbing at a hand and coating a couple of the long, agile digits with the remainder of the lube, finally shuffling forward, legs spread wide to either side of Gibbs’ knees. He looks down into the dazed, heated gaze and levers himself onto the edge of the couch, straddling in wide invitation. “Do me.”
That’s all it takes and Gibbs is homing in, pressing his fingers inside, driving deep into the barely loosened channel and wrapping his free arm around DiNozzo’s torso, pulling the trembling young man forward in support. They’re both moaning and shaking and, when DiNozzo finally decides he’s as ready as he’s going to be, he pulls up and away, leaving Gibbs panting and bereft on the couch.
“How do you want me?” He asks, voice gone gravelly and raw, eyes looking down at Gibbs with a heated gaze.
Gibbs is up in a flash, twisting them both and pushing, shoving DiNozzo face-first toward the back of the couch. The younger man understands immediately and kneels up against the cushions, leaning forward, draping slightly over top, and spreading his legs wide. If they’d done this a few weeks ago, DiNozzo would have found his head smacked soundly against the living room wall but, now, the couch has been moved to a new position, away from any solid surfaces and ready for just this use.
Glancing quickly over one shoulder, he sees Gibbs smearing a gob of fresh lube over his dick, getting ready to move into position and, as their eyes meet, he hisses his final order, knowing exactly how it will be received. “Fuck me like you’re going to fuck Abby.”
Gibbs all but springs forward, kneeling tight up behind DiNozzo, chest to back, hands pulling and positioning, lining up and pushing forward, teeth bared against the muscle atop the younger man’s right shoulder. It’s hot and sweet and so tight it takes his breath away but he’s falling into it willingly. He’s not going to last long…he knows it and DiNozzo knows it…but they work it for all they can. It’s rough and primal and hot and nasty, stripping away everything but the physical, everything but the ‘now’.
“Tony…Tony…” Gibbs begins to chant, arms banding tight around DiNozzo’s body, holding on to him and holding him in place, keeping himself grounded and keeping them both connected. His hips are snapping forward in sharp, hard thrusts, going deep and striking fire. “Gonna come…”
“Do it,” DiNozzo snarls, knowing the sound of his voice will push Gibbs just a bit more. He’s not anywhere near getting off again but the pounding tempo of the older man’s full, solid dick in his ass is so damn good. “Come on…give it to me…”
Gibbs’ hands skim down to catch at each hip and latch on, fingers digging in and pulling the warm cheeks back as he lunges forward, hammering against the smooth, firm globes again and again and again. The sweat is rolling between them now, slicking them up, and sliding off at chins and elbows and tips of noses.
“Tony…” Gibbs voice has taken on a desperate edge and he’s almost fucking with his whole body, the power lifting and jerking DiNozzo each time there’s a thrust. “Coming…coming…”
“Do it, do it…”
“Fuck me, Gibbs…harder…
“Yeah… like that…do it.”
And he’s there, shoving in hard, biting again at the corded muscle, breaking the skin slightly, and pouring himself into the open, willing body. It goes on and on and Gibbs feels himself break away and detach slightly from reality, splintering into the air in a million, tiny fragments, drifting and floating and hovering on the edges of consciousness. He hangs momentarily in that realm, suspended, weightless, free…
…and then comes down, hard, feeling his hammering within his chest and pounding in his ears, hearing his own deep, ragged gasps for air and just feeling like he‘s never going to be able to breathe normal again. But he’s not the only one here and, when he realizes he’s still got a hold of DiNozzo with his teeth, he immediately lets go and pulls back, grimacing at the raw mark showing starkly on the pale skin.
“Jesus, Tony…” he manages dryly, hoarsely, fingertips ghosting over the angry blotch. “I didn’t mean…”
“Shhhh,” DiNozzo soothes and hisses a bit as Gibbs slips free, waiting only until there’s enough room before turning around and leaning in to capture the older man in a fierce embrace. “I’m okay.”
Gibbs is still uncomfortable and it shows in his body language: shoulders stiff and head tilted downward. “I hurt you and I marked you.” He runs a hand over his sweaty head. “I’ve never done anything like that. Crap.”
DiNozzo nods at him silently for a few moments…and then begins to chuckle, low and soft, eyes crinkling up at the corners. Gibbs just looks at him, like he’s lost a huge chunk of his sanity, and that just makes the younger man laugh even more.
“What the hell’s so funny?” Gibbs asks finally, shifting around on the sofa, and eyeing the laughing man critically. “I knock something loose inside your head?”
DiNozzo settles a bit but the smile is still plastered firmly. He leans against the older man, squirming around to get comfortable, and waits until a heavy arm lands across his shoulder before he explains. He likes closeness after sex, likes to feel the touch of his lover, and Gibbs is not foolish enough to deny him something that basic and simple.
“Well?” Gibbs prompts again, a bit harsher. “You going to tell me?”
“Just thinking, that’s all.”
“No, that’s never ‘all’ with you,” Gibbs assures firmly and palms DiNozzo’s head, giving it a little shake. “Spit it out.”
DiNozzo grins cheekily and let’s out a laugh, nodding at the truthful statement. “We got pretty juiced up, didn’t we?”
Gibbs grunts and let his fingers slide gently through the damp hair. “Suppose so.”
“Suppose so?” DiNozzo mocks and then pulls back to look up into Gibbs’ face. “Gibbs, we were on fire…blazing…scorching.”
Gibbs grunts again but, this time, a smile accompanies the agreeable sound. “Yeah, I guess we were. So?”
“So?” DiNozzo shakes his head and squints deliberately at his lover. “If we got that worked up just thinking about being with Abby, what’s going to happen when we finally are *with* her?”
Gibbs’ smile fades rapidly and his mouth opens and closes mutely, his eyes taking on a comically apprehensive gaze. “I…I…”
“Yeah, my feelings exactly,” DiNozzo agrees, sliding back and dropping his head to Gibbs shoulder. “We are so screwed.”